Song For Sarine
by Mythrae
Summary: A Mackenzie Weyr story. The plague is hitting the Weyr hard and Sarine, the Weyrhealer, is the hardest hit of all. Even with N'varr's help - since he can't leave to investigate the murders further - she is overworked. So it's up to the bronze rider of Kevlarth to try and help her out.


Song For Sarine

"N'varr, I need your help!"

N'varr dropped the cleaning rag he had been using and hurried to where Sarine was trying to hold down a thrashing, semi-concious patient. N'varr grasped the sick man's upper arms, pinning him easily to the bedframe, while Sarine forced the fellis juice into his mouth. The man sputtered, but swallowed and in a few minutes, relaxed.

"Thanks," Sarine smiled at N'varr who grinned and went back to the table he had been wiping. Despite his cheerful face, the bronze rider was worried about the Healer. She had been working non-stop since the infirmary had started to fill up. She slept in naps when she could, always ready to dash to wherever she was needed. Ayala was holding up well, but she was not fully trained and lacked the experience to deal with this without Sarine to lean on. The other weyrfolk who were helping had only basic medical knowledge at best. So Sarine was exhausted and needed a break.

_And I am the one to do it,_ N'varr thought to his sleepy dragon.

_Need help?_ Kevlarth inquired.

_Maybe,_ N'varr mused, his industrious scrubbing momentarily stalled. _Yeah, actually. Can you ask Cailleath to ask Gwyn to meet me just before dinner?_

N'varr heard Kevlarth's request of the queen and in a moment was told that yes, Gwyn would meet him, but it would have to be quick.

"N'varr?" Sarine's voice came at his elbow. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Oh, yes," N'varr smiled warmly down at the woman. Shells, she was lovely! Even with her face drawn and tired, her hair pulled roughly back in a crooked braid and a smudge of some unknown substance on her cheek, she was the prettiest woman in the Weyr. He was so happy that his interest in her had been returned!

"But you need some rest," he continued, touching her cheek with his hand. "Why don't you go have a nap, beautiful? I'll be a bronze and guard you." A cheep from a nearby shelf caused N'varr to smile at the three golden lizards that perched there. "And so will Meena, Raye and Min."

Sarine laughed.

"I'd really like to," she admitted, shaking her head. "But I still have work to do. I'll nap later."

She reached up to kiss him quickly then was off to see a patient who was moaning softly in his bed. N'varr watched her work then, with a sigh, went back to his cleaning.

Just before dinner that night, Ayala esconced in the infirmary to watch, N'varr steered Sarine to a table with a bench against a wall that she could lean on. He settled her, poured her a cup of mulled wine and with a caress of her hair, said he'd be back in a moment. Then, he hurried over to where Gwyn was waiting.

"What's up, N'varr?" she inquired curiously. "Cailleath just said you needed some help."

"I do," N'varr nodded. "Are you busy tomorrow night?"

Gwyn's eyebrows did a fast climb to her hairline. Her glance at Sarine clued N'varr in to her thoughts.

"No, no, no," he hastily said. "I'm planning a surprise for Sarine and I need a harper."

"Oh!" Gwyn smiled. "That's really sweet, N'varr. She needs a rest." The weyrwoman thought for a moment, then snapped her fingers. "I've got it. I'm busy, but Heither can be spared. Will she do?"

"The apprentice?" N'varr frowned, trying to remember if he had ever heard her play. Gwyn mistook his frown.

"She's a senior apprentice," the slim woman said, her grey eyes earnest. "She's very good."

"Oh, I don't care about her rank," N'varr waved that aside. "I was just trying to remember how well she played."

"Well, she's best on gitar," Gwyn told him. "But she's also very good on flute."

"Gitar is fine," N'varr smiled happily. "Thanks, Gwyn. I'll ask her."

Gwyn grinned and squeezed N'varr's arm before picking up a tray loaded with food and heading off. N'varr went back to Sarine, woke her up, and they ate their dinner.

The next afternoon, N'varr left the infirmary early. Sarine kissed him goodbye, but she was distracted by a patient who was sinking very fast. Feeling a little guilty at leaving her, but knowing that she would appreciate what he was doing, N'varr went back to his weyr.

"Everything ready?" he asked the few people who were inside.

"Just about, N'varr," Heither the harper replied. She smiled at the bronze rider. "This is a great thing you are doing."

"Why, thank you."

"I'm done here, too," H'ton, one of the assistant cooks and a fellow dragonrider said. "Will that be enough food, bronze rider?"

"Splendid, brown rider, my thanks," N'varr clapped the man on the back. "I appreciate you taking the time out when your weyrmate is sick."

"T'ladal is better," H'ton replied, although his voice was not as positive as his words. "And I'm glad to do something for Sarine."

He and the person helping him left and Heither settled down on a comfortable stool in an unobtrusive corner near Kevlarth's couch. When the dragon was there, she would be hidden from view, but her music would be easily heard. She strummed a chord, then looked up.

"I've learned the song," she informed the rider. "It's lovely, N'varr." She strummed another chord. "You'll let me know when to play it?"

"Kevlarth will," N'varr replied. "I think it's time."

_Kevlarth, love, you can come in now. Carefully, please._

_Coming._

The large bronze entered the weyr a few minutes later and carefully settled himself on his couch as he and N'varr had agreed. Heither was hidden and N'varr was ready to get the guest of honour.

"Where are we going, N'varr?" Sarine asked, puzzled, when the bronze rider led her away from the infirmary but not towards the dining hall.

"You'll see."

Sarine shrugged, then smiled tiredly when their destination became obvious. She would have liked some dinner first, but still...

N'varr led her into the short corridor that led to the large, main part of the weyr. He could hear Heither's music and, in a moment, so could Sarine.

"N'varr? Do you hear music?"

Then they were in the large cavern and Sarine stopped in amazement.

Small baskets of glows were placed at intervals around the room and they threw their carefully controlled light around the darkened room making a familiar place suddenly different. A long table sat flushed against one wall and Sarine's tired eyes took in the sight of platters of meats, cheeses and breads spaced out on it. In the very centre of the table was a large covered pitcher and a steaming pot of something that smelt extremely nice.

"Oh, N'varr," Sarine murmured, looking around and noticing Kevlarth's dark bulk and glowing blue eyes. Then she gasped when a large number of glowing blue gems appeared all along Kevlarth's back. A cheep from one near the dragon's head identified Min.

"N'varr, this is wonderful!"

"Come and eat," N'varr invited, steering Sarine to a comfortable chair, then filling a plate for her. After giving it to her, he filled one for himself and sat down close to her.

"Is this... wherry?" Sarine asked, sampling the contents from the steaming pot. "It's delicious!"

"Yes, it's a special recipe that one of the riders made for you," N'varr replied. "He's a brown rider, but he's been helping out in the kitchens."

"H'ton?"

"Yes, that's his name," N'varr nodded. "Do you know him?"

Sarine smiled, but just continued to eat her dinner.

When she could not stuff in another bite, nor drink another sip of wine, N'varr let her digest for a moment, then spoke to Kevlarth mentally. A second later, the unobtrusive dinner music changed easily to a louder dance tune and N'varr stood up.

"Will you honour me with a dance, Healer Sarine?" N'varr asked, bowing and offering his hand.

Sarine looked up at his shadowed face.

"With pleasure, bronze rider N'varr," she replied and accepted.

N'varr led her into the steps of the dance, his movements sure and easy. Sarine had never danced with him before and she was thrilled that he could move so well. She closed her eyes and felt as light as a feather, her feet moving to the rhythm.

Several minutes later, although Sarine had lost all track of time and was simply dancing, the music modulated and slowed into an unfamiliar tune. N'varr pulled her close and, rather than concious steps, they merely rocked back and forth to each other's arms. Sarine wasn't sure when the humming started, but all of a sudden she was hearing it. It was coming from the line of fire lizards watching in the dark, a bass croon from Kevlarth himself and, most surprising of all, a beauitful baritone from N'varr. As Sarine listened, the baritone humming changed to words.

Sway to the music, love

Hold tight to me

Dayling is fading, love

Set your mind free

Feel how the music sings through you

Rest in the dreams it brings to you

Know I will always cling to you

Ever, if you want me to.

Safe in my arms, my love

Free from your cares

Shake all your worries, love

Take what I offer, Love

Sway to the music, love

I will be there

I will be there.

N'varr's voice faded out and Sarine summoned enough energy to lift her head from his chest and look up. He was gazing down at her, a tender smile on his face. When their eyes met, he lowered his head and kissed her thoroughly.

For all that she didn't sleep the whole night, Sarine woke up the next morning more rested than she'd been in a long time.


End file.
